


we’ve not yet lost all our graces

by nirky



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-29
Updated: 2013-11-29
Packaged: 2018-01-02 23:39:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1063048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nirky/pseuds/nirky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Why is our magic stronger when we’re together?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	we’ve not yet lost all our graces

**Author's Note:**

> Written almost entirely to the sound of Lorde's Team, from where the title is taken. Also, this is my first attempt at Swan Queen fanfiction.

“Why?” Emma sat heavily on the log next to Regina, leaving a respectful space between their bodies.

They had been forced to spend another night in Neverland. Maybe more than one, if Emma was to be honest with herself. They had finally managed to find Henry and then took his heart away from Pan, against all odds. Not all odds, if Regina in Mama-Bear mode was to be taken into consideration. Which she definitely should be. The price had been Rumpelstiltskin. Gold. Whatever. He was not dead, at least Emma hoped he wasn’t, but when the so-called Evil Queen, holding on to Emma’s hand and with tears making her eyes shine even in the shadows (or perhaps shining more because of them?), had cast a spell so powerful Henry’s heart had literally _jumped_ out of Peter Pan’s chest and back into Henry’s, the over 350-year-old smug teenager had decided to take Pandora’s box with him. For leverage, he had said.

Emma held no love for the man who had created the curse responsible for her 28 years devoid of family ties, but she was now forever bound to a kid who was apparently the truest believer. Said man was the kid’s grandfather. And the kid had morals way stronger than hers, no matter what her White Knight status claimed.

_God, her family was fucked up._

Regina carefully ran a hand through one of Henry’s hair strands, falling over his eyes while he slept next to the fire. The Savior looked at her in wonder, waiting for the sure-to-be-snarky reply.

They were back to the main island which, now that they had been to that skull-turned-land, felt like an actual resort to Emma. Hook had looked at her with those sparkling blue eyes clearly stating he was proud of her, he had been right in believing in her, and Snow had embraced her so tightly that she was sure she had heard a rib crack. Neal had come up behind her, Henry’s arm loosely hanging on to his waist. The kid had received an endless amount of hugs, high-fives and pats on the back. Regina and Neal? They had gotten a nod each, from David, the polite Charming. It was clear her screwed-up family played favorites and Henry’s other parents weren’t high on the list.

Emma wasn’t sure if it was she or Henry who were the gravity centre of such an unusual group of people. It sure felt like she was the one in the spotlight most of the time since they’d gotten to Neverland. Except for Regina. Never for Regina.

Someone had to have their priorities straight.

“Why what, Miss Swan?” the brunette asked in a sigh. She looked around for several moments, her eyes stopping in every one of their sleeping companions, like she was afraid they would catch her talking to _her_. She visibly swallowed, and her next words left her lips with effort. “Emma.”

Emma was surprised to find her lips quirk up at the sound of her name in Regina’s voice. It was not the first time, but it was still special somehow.

“Why is our magic stronger when we’re together?”

Regina, bless her, actually _laughed_.

“You think our magic is stronger when we are together?”

“Isn’t it?” Emma self-consciously hid her hands inside the sleeves of her black turtleneck shirt. She didn’t like to appear weak in front of Regina, and her fingers had betrayed her by choosing that moment to become fidgety.

“Do enlighten me about what you mean by that, dear.” The former Mayor arched a still perfect eyebrow, eyes bright with mirth. How did she manage to look flawless with dirty clothes and the dark smudge of ash on her neck and over her chest? It should be illegal.

“Fine,” Emma harrumphed, annoyed at Regina’s persistently antagonistic demeanor. “Maybe it’s _your_ magic that gets stronger when I’m around. Jefferson’s hat worked when _I_ touched _you_ –“

“Look how fabulously that turned out.”

“And you would be dead if _I_ hadn’t helped _you_ with that trigger of Doom –“

“Well, there must be a reason you are called the Savior.”

“And _you_ asked for _my_ help to move the fucking moon so we –“

“Language, Miss Swan.”

“Save it, Regina,” Emma puffed, now openly irritated. “You know very well what I mean.”

“Yes.” The brunette stared at the fire, a flicker of _something_ crossing her features. “I do.”

It was that easy? Emma’s eyes widened. She had anticipated more of a fight. Regina was, after all, very good at both denial and deflection.

“So what is it?” The blonde inhaled sharply, her words tumbling out of her mouth, too fast so her brain couldn’t catch up. “Because I have magic but it’s weird and messy and I can’t get a hold of it except when...”

Regina nodded and looked away from the flames to hold her gaze, urging her to go on.

“Except when I’m with you.” And then, in a very small, unusually timid voice. “Or when I think of you.”

Of course Regina, the _evil_ woman, would have the nerve to smirk at that. It was to be expected.

“It’s interesting that you need to think of me to perform magic, is it not?”

“I don’t need to think of you to do magic!” Emma replied, too quickly, too defensively. “It just works better when I do.” She pulled her knees to her chest and rested her face there, letting her eyes focus on the woman before her. “Why is that?”

The brunette shrugged, her hands moving delicately to smooth the imperfections brought upon her attire by days of trekking and hiking through the jungle.

“What, you don’t have a theory?”

Regina lifted her chin and narrowed her eyes, a look similar to those simpler times when they’d have glaring contests until one of them stared the other down.

“And what would yours be, Miss Swan?”

Maybe not that easy then. Trust Regina to keep the answers to herself and avoid addressing the issues at hand. But Emma was not about to give up and she was not opposed to make a fool out of herself in the process. Something about seeing your son’s heart out of his chest had that effect on you. Suddenly things like pride and obstination felt less important. Suddenly, they didn’t seem to matter at all.

“I dunno.” She hugged her legs, tight at first, and then she let her arms slide down, one hand holding the other by the wrist. She sighed and closed her eyes, feeling tired and sleepy and _vulnerable_. “I don’t know much about magic, you know that. Everyone keeps saying magic always come with a price and that True Love is the most powerful magic of all. I don’t really get how those two concepts can go together. What’s the price of True Love?”

“In my land, the price would be jealousy and revenge,” Regina stated, solemnly. “And death. I don’t think that is so different here.” She paused for an instant, pondering, before she added, “Or there, in Storybrooke.”

“Jealousy?” Emma asked, her eyelids fluttering open. She understood the revenge and death part, Regina’s life was a testament to that.

“If you think about all the stories with princes and princesses, were they ever just let be? Were they ever allowed to just live their True Love without worrying that someone would come and take it away?” The brunette winced, flashes of memories so clear in the fire that Emma had to make an effort not to startle. “Maybe jealousy is not the right term. Maybe sometimes we,” a simper, and nails clipping palms, “the evil ones, just want something different for ourselves and for our _victims_.”

“You mean you don’t want anyone else to be happy,” the Savior deadpanned, rolling her eyes.

“I know my logic may seem twisted to you, Miss Swan.” There was weariness in Regina’s voice, defeat almost. “But what sense does it make to see everyone happy when your own happiness was ripped away from you?”

“That’s like the story of the drunk dad with the two sons.”

“...”

“ _What?_ ”

“There was this guy who was an alcoholic all his life and he had two sons,“ Emma explained, a hint of impatience in her tone. “One son grew up to become a successful man, never touching alcohol in his life, the other grew up to become a drunken mess. When asked about their fates, their reply was the same: ‘I am this way because my father was an alcoholic’.”

“I don’t see how that relates to this conversation.”

“Your mother took away your happiness.” She lifted her hand before Regina could object. “Maybe Mary Margaret had a part in that too, but that’s not what’s important. What I mean to say is that you chose to follow down that path, you chose to do to others what had been done to you. You were not born evil.”

“Evil isn’t born, it’s made,” Regina practically growled.

“You could have chosen to break away from that pattern. You could have chosen to become the successful son.”

“You are one to talk, Miss Swan.” Emma knew she was about to be in trouble. Regina straightened her back, impossibly so, and folded her hands on her lap before turning her face to glower at Emma. The fire seemed to glow a little higher, a little hotter. “You abandoned your son the moment he was born. After having been abandoned yourself.”

“Yeah, and whose fault is that?” the blonde snarled, fists closing.

“I cursed the people in my land so they wouldn’t have happy endings!” Regina hissed, invading Emma’s personal space. “I certainly did not _choose_ to lock you in a wardrobe and send you away to another realm, outside of Storybrooke’s safety!” She stopped for a fraction of a moment, surprised at the intensity in her words. “It seems your mother has played a huge part in your unhappiness too.”

Silence surrounded them, heavy and filled with tension. Emma tried to concentrate on the cracks of the burning wood, but Regina’s presence was making it hard. Every time she considered giving the woman a chance, she would go and crush it.

“Maybe that’s why you still feel like an orphan.”

“You are the only reason they decided to abandon me.” Emma argued, weakly. She knew, deep down, that she still had some sort of semblance of a fight within herself. But she had fought too much already, with hardly a moment’s rest, ever since she’d set foot on the Jolly Roger. Instead she closed her eyes and remembered the feel of Regina’s hand in hers and believed, for just a second, that one day they would find peace. And maybe their path to peace was beginning right there and then. “They wanted to give me – “

“Your best chance,” Regina finished, quietly. Emma sighed, a feeling of contentment settling on her chest. It seemed Regina was also letting go of the fight for the moment. “Yes, I know.”

“Would you have killed me?”

“I would never kill a child!” The brunette actually looked offended at the idea. “Not directly, anyway,” she added, as an afterthought, a red tint reaching her cheeks. “I probably would’ve kept you for the irony of it. The Evil Queen raising the child of Snow White.”

They shared a small smile.

“That’s... fucked up. “ Emma snorted and then shuddered. The woman looked about six years older than her and yet she had a lifetime of experiences before and after she was born. “How old are you anyway?”

“I’m still younger than your boyfriend,” Regina snarked, not missing a beat. “Than _both_ of them.”

“That sums up the mess my life turned into pretty well.”

“Well, it serves you right.” A poignant pause. “For breaking my curse.”

Wait. Was Regina teasing her?

“Maybe your curse would still be around if you hadn’t been on my ass all the time, Madam Mayor.”

“That’s only because you’re a stubborn mule, Miss Swan.”

“Hey!” Emma’s instinct was to bump Regina’s shoulder with her own, but she realized how that action could be considered a wee bit too much just in time. So she opted to lean on the brunette, ever so slightly, the length of their arms almost brushing.

“I’m not...” Regina started, hesitatingly. “I’m not very good at reading people.” She moved the fraction of an inch left for their arms to be touching and Emma couldn’t tell if she had done it on purpose or not. It was curious though, how the warmth she was feeling came from the brunette and not from the fire. “And I don’t know how to _act_ around them either.”

Great. Politician, Evil Queen, sociopath... Regina sure made it easy to like her.

“Yeah. I kinda got that impression,” Emma said, trying to infuse as much kindness as possible into her words. “You’re very good at ruling people though. Or cities? Storybrooke was a lot more organized when you were Mayor.”

Regina chuckled under her breath and brought her knees to her chest, her position mirroring Emma’s, and the Savior was reminded that the woman was not that larger than life. In that moment, her hair disheveled and the lines on her face painted with an orange glow, she seemed small and shy and Emma felt something tug at her heartstrings.

“Rules are easy. Rules and laws and bureaucracy. There are procedures to deal with that.”

“It’s the people that are complicated?”

“Well, yes.”

“That why you need magic so much?”

“Magic makes people easier to control, makes them bend to your will.” There was a long moment of silence. Emma had a lot to ask and a lot to say, but she felt that Regina wasn’t quite finished yet and she didn’t know when she would have another chance to talk to a rather calm and open (maybe not so evil?) Queen, so she just sat there, slowly humming a lullaby and waiting. “But magic doesn’t make people love you.”

And there it was. Regina’s lifelong struggle. Emma felt very tense, her body going rigid at the sight of the brunette’s sorrowful, tiny smile. If it had been Mary Margaret or Ruby talking, Emma would have held their hands or put her arm over their shoulders. But this was Regina and Regina didn’t do comforting gestures. She sat very still, wondering if not breathing could make them pretend she wasn’t there.

“Henry loves you,” was what she ended up whispering.

“Does he now?”

“How could he not? You’re his mother.”

“So are you.”

“Yeah,” Emma replied, her forehead resting against her knees. “But this amazing, brave, _smart_ little boy? He’s all you, Regina. I didn’t change his diapers or spent nights awake helping him through a fever. I didn’t teach him how to speak or helped him with his homework. I didn’t witness his first smile, his first word, his first step. _You_ wanted him when I didn’t.” The Savior felt bold for a moment that was long enough to allow her to lay a hand on Regina’s thigh, forcing the brunette to hold her gaze. “I’m still mad that you spent almost a year making him believe he was crazy. God, Regina, just saying it out loud makes me want to punch you in the face! Do you know how much damage that could’ve done to him? Are you even surprised the kid was so angry at you for so long?”

Regina had the decency to look ashamed, devastated even, but she didn’t look away.

“That is terrible and awful and I’m still trying to forgive you for that and maybe I’ll never forgive you because so much of what’s been horrible in my life is directly connected to you. But you know what?” Emma smiled, a genuine smile, with all the bravery and strength and _goodness_ that was expected from a Savior, leaving Regina to feel wobbly and humble. “I’m choosing to let all that go, because what’s done is done and all those horrible things made me who I am.”

She let the words hung in the air between them for several heartbeats, watching Regina for a reaction. Those expressive pools of brown were made breathtaking by the flames and they were looking at her like she was a precious thing, like she was too good to be true. It made Emma feel invincible.

“I’m finally learning to love myself. Henry taught me how. He looked for me, he _wanted_ me, he believed in me. He still does. And you, with your petty schemes and the clickety-clack of your heels at the station, you were a huge part of why I decided to stay in Storybrooke. Everything that pissed you off was a good idea in my book.”

“How endearingly ironic.”

“Indeed.” Emma snickered, before turning serious again, unforeseen passion making her green eyes bright and warm. “So, you know, I guess all the great things in my life are directly connected to you too.”

Regina’s eyes glistened with unveiled tears that the blonde knew would never fall and the silence that enveloped them was not tense for once. It was the kind of comforting silence that wraps you up when you’re with someone who understands you and your timings.

“I...” Regina began, her voice gentle, what felt like hours afterwards. “I’m not sure why our magic is stronger when we’re together.”

“Do we secretly love each other or something?”

“Weren’t you kissing a pirate two days ago, Miss Swan?” Regina mocked, not entirely unpleasant, but with a hint of _something else_. “How many potential suitors can you possibly need?”

“I like to keep my options open.” She winked, a mischievous grin gracing her lips. “You never know!”

“I believe it has something to do with the curse,” the brunette persisted, purposefully ignoring Emma’s innuendos.

“How so?”

“Magic tends to come full circle, that’s why it always comes with a price. By casting the curse, I brought the circle to life. By breaking the curse, you completed the circle.” Regina picked up a stick from the ground and drew a circle in front of them, marking the circumference with an X. ”We meet here, at this point. I am the beginning.” She lifted a hand and cautiously placed it on Emma’s chest, where her heart was. “You are the ending.”

“You mean we are bound together by the curse?”

“I think so.” Regina withdrew her hand and looked at it like it was a foreign object with a mind of its own.

“That’s... oddly poetic.”

The brunette laughed softly, uncharacteristically, and when she leaned into Emma, their shoulders touching, her pinky brushing Emma’s thigh, the Savior knew this time Regina was doing it because she needed the comfort of her presence. And so she allowed it, and secretly reveled in it.

When Henry was awoken by the blinding light of dawn, a couple of hours later, and through sleep-ridden eyes saw his mothers sitting together with such _serenity_ on their faces, he was sure it didn’t matter what monsters and villains they had yet to face, because everything could only be okay in the end.

**Author's Note:**

> All mistakes were mine as this went unbeta'ed. My apologies if they were distracting as English is not my first language.
> 
> Special shout-out to pyrophoric, because sometimes my muse got mixed up and she wouldn't know if my Emma was show!Emma or TSITT!Emma.


End file.
